


gliding light

by sanjariti



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Best Friends to Lovers, Best friends flirting, Childhood Friends, College AU, F/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Steve Harrington Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unrequited Love, hockey player steve, steve getting into fights and not winning, sweet wholesome tooth rotting fluff with some angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-10 06:50:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20523737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanjariti/pseuds/sanjariti
Summary: New beginnings are rare to come by, so when Steve gets the chance to start over and be himself, he jumps at the opportunity. But will new beginnings, strange cities, and evolving paths of life lead you two apart? Or will it bring you closer than ever before?//Steve’s a little more preoccupied than usual, and gets (literally) knocked back into his senses.





	gliding light

**Author's Note:**

> here's my first steve harrington series!! pls let me know what you guys think, i'm super excited for this story!!! xx

As a kid, you don’t have much say in the trajectory of your life as the years go by. Your parents will have expectations;  _ ideals,  _ really. They aspire to see you grow up as they did; be what they once were; do what they once did. They really just want you to be like them. 

And why is that?

Your teachers will emphasize every year that your dreams are what you make them; that you are the captain of the ship named “My Life”, and that you are the sole determiner of the course that ship will take. 

But what happens when others have come aboard your ship, taken control of the steer, and claimed it as their own?

What happens when you can no longer have a stake in where your life takes you?

* * *

Steve can always be found leaning against the wall of the gym, staring at the ground, with his hair tied up in a messy bun, and his basketball shorts hanging loosely off his hips.

As you make your way over to him, your backpack strap slipping off your shoulder again and again, you wonder what’s happened with his dad this time.

Because it’s _ always _ his dad.

“Hey there, Harrington,” 

“Hey there yourself, missy. Debate team run long?” He glances up at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Sort of - Nancy was getting a little too into it again,” 

“When’s she gonna let you be captain?” You shrug in response, struggling to keep a steady hold on the mountain of books you were carrying. 

“Here, let me-” Steve catches the few books that manage to slip of the top with ease, chuckling loudly as you lean against the wall opposite him. 

“I swear, I’m gonna need three backpacks just to carry all these,”

“You can have mine if you want - it’s empty anyways,”

“We still on for homework and dinner tonight?” Steve nods, grinning as he opens up his bag and drops the books inside.

“Whose cooking will I be enjoying later this evening?” He asks as leans towards you.

“Lasagna, made by yours truly! My mom said pizza is on her this weekend, so...”

“Sleepover?” You nod, zipping up the bag and slinging it over your shoulder. 

“Can you drive me to practice Saturday morning then?” The two of you start walking towards the student parking lot as Steve continues. “John and the boys want to run a few extra drills before the first home game next week,”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna lose you to basketball practice so soon, it feels like just yesterday was the end of the season,” You say, kicking the car door wide open with your foot before dropping your backpacks in the backseat.

“Well, technically it was last month. But it’s state finals, baby! We gotta get in A-game shape!”

“I hate when you talk like that, it scares me like nothing else ever has before,” You both burst out laughing as you get into the car, Steve’s hand reaching over to take the car keys from you.

“It’s our junior year, sweetheart. You of all people should know we have to finish off strong. If I don’t get us the state championship, I might as well kiss college goodbye,”

You roll your eyes at him, snatching the keys out of his grasp before he can protest.

“Yes, I know. Regardless, you should still apply and try to get in with other scholarships and achievements  _ beside  _ basketball, Steve. Okay?” 

He nods, eyes closing slowly as he turns to face the window.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

* * *

On an early Saturday morning, the last thing you expect to see is your childhood best friend barging into your bedroom, telling you to wake up before he’s late.

“Wha- What time is practice at? It’s a Saturday, for crying out loud!” You throw a pillow at Steve’s face, groaning as you cover your own with the duvet.

“I’m telling you, it’s the finals! C’mon, I can’t be late for this and you promised you’d drive me!”

The whole car ride to Hawkins High, Steve was tapping his fingers on his knees, his eyes focused on the road.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this anxious to get to practice, Harrington. Something up?” You ask as you pull into the driveway, parking just outside of the gym doors. He says nothing, and instead gets out of the car, and moves to open the backseat doors to grab his bags. You lock them.

“Hey, c’mon now!” 

“Tell me what the heck is going on with you first!” 

You look at him sternly, pointing at the passenger seat. Steve sighs, and plops back down, not even bothering to meet your gaze.

“Steve, you know I’m not gonna let this go. What’s up?” He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning his head back against the headrest of the seat.

“My dad… he’s been giving me a bunch of shit lately for coming home with shit grades, no job… he keeps saying I won’t get anywhere if I don’t make the basketball thing work, and he’s always on my ass about my plays and shit after every game, even though Coach says I’m the best Hawkins’ has had in years, and I’m the fuckin’ team captain. I’m just sick and tired of hearing that ‘I’m not good enough’ from him when I’m doing everything I can, you know?” 

Steve’s eyes are shut tight, and you know it’s because he’s fighting back tears. You rest your hand on his arm, saying nothing as you start to count his breaths.

_ 1… 2…. 3…. 4…. 5 _

“I know you’ll prove him wrong, Steve. You always do. You’re better than he’ll ever be.”

Steve only nods, swallowing thickly as he mulls over your words.

You always know how to make him feel better - especially when it comes to his dad. Ever since you were kids, you always stuck by his side, comforting him and reminding him that he was everything his father was not, and it reminded him that at least he had one person on his team. He was always glad that it was you.

“T-Thanks. And sorry I didn’t say anything before now-”

“No worries. You know I’ll never push. Now get out of my car and show your dad you can take his ass in basketball any day, okay?”

He opens his eyes, smiling as he locked eyes with you. He takes your hand in his and squeezes gently before letting go and stepping out of the car to grab his bags.

As he shuts the door, you roll down the passenger window.

“Need me to swing by later or you good?” He shrugs, looking over the car at something in the distance.

Patting the car roof, he says, “I’ll let you know, yeah?” before heading off into the gym. 

As soon as he loses sight of your taillights, Steve books it.

Running across the street without a second glance, Steve can barely pick up the pace as he tries to keep his bags from slipping off his shoulders. 

_ Almost there. _

He’s almost out of breath, but he finally makes it.

As he drops a bag to the ground, the bus pulls up to the stop where Steve is standing, the tires coming to a sputtering stop as the doors open.

Picking up his duffel, Steve boards the bus, and flashes the driver his round-trip ticket.

Once settled in a seat, he sets down his bags in the one next to him and finally looks out the window as the bus pulls away. 

The sign reading “Now Leaving Hawkins” flashes by, bringing a smile to Steve’s face as he leans back in his seat, eyelids fluttering shut.

_ Logansport, here I come _ .

* * *

Skates strapped on, helmet secured, and hockey stick in hand, Steve is ready for anything.

Well,  _ almost anything. _

He’s already on the ice, squatting in front of the net as he watches the team inch closer and closer with the puck coming right for him.

He hears it before he sees it.

Dodging right, Steve manages to knock the puck off course and straight into the rink wall, some of his teammates cheering loudly behind him as he picked himself up off the ice.

“Nice one, Harrington!”

“What a save, newbie!” 

Steve turns around, and is greeted with congratulatory waves and pats on the back as they make their way back to the box.

Well, almost.

Before Steve can step foot off the ice, he’s being pulled back into the rink by one of the older guys, who’s conveniently surrounded by some of his friends.

“Nick, was it?” Steve asked with a muffled voice, his mouth guard still in place.

“How many times you gonna make me look bad in front of Coach, huh?”

The grip on Steve’s shoulder tightened with every passing second, their eyes locked on one another.

“That’s not what I’m tryin’ to do, man,”

“Sure it’s not. Learn to stop kissing ass man, it doesn’t look too good on you,” He spit on Steve’s jersey before pulling off his helmet.

“I will when you learn to make a hard pass, and stop making it so easy for me to block your shots.” Steve pulled off his helmet and dropped it on the ice, the contact making a lasting sound across the empty arena.

“You’re really in it huh, Harrington? Let’s see what you got,” Without warning, Nick moves head on towards Steve, shoving him hard against the tempered glass boards surrounding the rink. Steve feels the back of his head collide with the glass, and thinks for a moment that he’s about to pass out on the spot. He feels blood trickling down the side of his face, and tries his best to wipe it off with the backside of his glove.

Before he can re-orient himself, Nick pulls Steve to him and punches him right in the jaw, his gloved hand scraping the underside of his jaw just before he hits him again.

Steve lifts up his knee and tries to hit Nick straight in the balls, but misses as Nick moves backwards, pushing Steve onto the ice. Before he hits the ground, Steve grabs Nick by the ankle and yanks it towards him, forcing him down with him, and they both hit the ice with a loud thud.

Before he can get up, Steve gets kicked on both sides by Nick’s friends; he can’t make out their faces as the right side of his face is already starting to swell up from the punch.

Hands suddenly appear on his arms, pulling him upright. Steve can barely make out Nick as he comes towards him, pummeling straight onto the ice again with two swift punches - one to the face, and another to the gut.

Steve lands on his side and winces as he hears the unmistakable sound of his shoulder popping out of his socket.

“ _ Fuck,”  _ is all he manages to get out before losing consciousness.

* * *

Flashes of bright white bring Steve back to the land of the living, and he finds himself sitting upright on a hospital bed. He glances down, wincing at the sharp pain shooting down his neck, and finds his arm in a sling, a band of ice packs wrapped neatly around his shoulder. 

_ Way to go, Harrington. _

Before he makes any sudden movements, a doctor appears outside his door, tapping his clipboard with a pen.

“Well, Mr. Harrington, you’re lucky that shoulder injury isn’t more severe.”

Steve laughs awkwardly, barely nodding as the doctor moves closer to his bed.

“A harder push, or a different surface of impact, and we’d be looking at a separated shoulder in need of surgery. You’ll need to stay off the ice for the next four weeks though, I’m afraid.”

“No way for a quicker healing turnaround, Doc?” Steve smiled, wincing immediately from the flare of pain in his jaw.

“No can do, mister. If you want to regain full use of that thing, I suggest you keep your sport activities to a minimum, and stay off the ice. I have a painkiller prescription for you here,” The doctor flashes a piece of paper, “in case the pain lingers. If you dislocate it again, you’ll need to come in so I can re-examine it, alright?”

Steve nods in response, grimacing at the random flashes of pain he was getting from his shoulder and neck.

“Your friend is waiting for you outside; I’ll let her know you’re awake,”

Before he could ask any questions, the doctor stepped out, and was replaced by you. 

_ Shit. _

“Glad to know you’re not dead.” 

“Can this… can we wait until we get home? I promise I’ll explain,” Steve says hoarsely, a weak smile appearing as he tries to appease the anger he knows is boiling over inside of you.

“Explain everything, or I’ll make sure that shoulder pops out again.”

* * *

The whole ride back to Hawkins was nerve wracking for Steve; a dead silence filling the car, your eyes focused on the road, your mind focused on the different ways you could kill Steve and get away with it. He was terrified of how upset you were, and he knew you were devising some sort of plan for revenge and honestly? He couldn’t blame you.

You were his best friend, after all. And he, yours.

Of course it pissed you off that he ran off to God knows where without telling you and almost died after a stupid, unfair fight.

This was the first secret he’d kept from you in  _ years _ , and he just hoped you’d forgive him.

Growing up, he put you through a lot of shit, but you always forgave him, no matter what. Whether he’d just broken your brand new bike, or the time he accidentally elbowed you in the nose and broke it, or the five times you had to call firefighters to your house because Steve accidentally set something on fire.

No matter what, you forgave him. 

But he’s painfully aware that this time around is different, because he  _ lied. _

And that’s one of your sacred rules.

_ No lies. _

The day you agreed to be friends, you made a pact that you both swore you’d honor to the grave -  _ dramatic for a pair of five year olds, but nonetheless.  _ You shook on it, and ever since then, it was the one rule left untouched - until now.

Once you pull into the driveway of your house, you help carry his bags into the house.

“Go wait upstairs,” was all you said after slamming the front door shut, and Steve followed directions. 

You tossed his things into the empty coat closet by the bathroom before heading to your bathroom, where you grabbed some rubbing alcohol, cotton balls and some gauze. Then you head off to your room, where you find Steve sitting on the edge of your bed, looking mopey as ever.

After shutting the door, you turn to look at him.

“Well, you better start talking, Harrington.”

You lean back against the door, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited for him to speak.

“This wasn’t how I wanted you to find out but,” He sighed, using his good hand to brush back some hair that was falling across his face. “I- I’ve been training and playing with this, this club hockey team over in Logansport for the last few months and,”

“Months?” You interrupt, scoffing at the fact that he had been lying for months now.

“I swear, I was gonna tell you-”

“When? Before or after you got a life threatening concussion?” Steve laughs sarcastically, shaking his head as he drops his gaze from you.

“Before, I promise. I just- I wanted to make sure I was making the right decision - that hockey was really what I wanted to do before telling you. ‘Cuz once I tell you, there’s no going back, and you know that.”

You want to protest his comment, but bite back your tongue instead.  _ Maybe he has a point. _

Supporting Steve’s dreams and ambitions meant making sure he followed through on them. Ever since you were both six years old, if Steve told you he wanted to do, be, or have something, you were right there by his side, championing him until he succeeded. But sometimes he’d want to quit, and you wouldn’t let him.

“Anyways, there’s no point in holding out anymore. I joined the club hockey team because I wanna quit the basketball team this summer, after the finals. That’s why it's been a secret for so long - I had to make sure I could do it, and that I wasn’t setting myself up for failure by joining a team for a sport I wasn’t too sure I’d be good at, or even liked. I know I should’ve told you sooner but I wanted to do this for myself, and-”

“For being one of the brightest people I know, you sure know how to pull some idiot moves, ya goof,” He brightens up at your back handed compliment, and flashes you a smile as you look at one another.

“You forgiving me then?”

“Only if you promise to stop hiding stuff from me,”

“I swear, this was it. You have  _ no idea _ how much I wanted to tell you, honest,” He raises his hand up, chuckling when you roll your eyes. 

“So what’s your big plan then?” You sit down next to him, and cup his face gently, turning his head just enough so he was facing you, and start applying the alcohol on the cuts littering his face.

“Get us the state championship, quit before summer session starts, and start practicing with the club hockey team to get ready for the fall season. Easy, right?” He laughs softly and drops his gaze down to his slinged arm as he winces from the sting of the alcohol.

“You’re forgetting something,”

“What?” He glances up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“How are you gonna break the news to your dad?”

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is always appreciated, even if its keysmashes or you screaming AHHHHH for five lines <33333


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